


Scenes from a Moperville Christmas

by Zee_McZed



Category: El Goonish Shive
Genre: And mentions of parentally-approved underage drinking, Contains people with a weird sense of humor, Gen, Just plain chill, Posted late due to internet outage, Written very late, fair warning, flashfic, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee_McZed/pseuds/Zee_McZed
Summary: A few scenes from people's houses in Moperville, Christmas day.Intended to be posted on Dec. 25. Whoops.
Relationships: Ellen Dunkel/Nanase Kitsune, Grace Sciuridae/Tedd Verres
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Scenes from a Moperville Christmas

Sarah's phone buzzed. She didn't bother looking at it, instead leaning out towards her window. Susan waved to her, and Sarah waved back, gesturing for her to come in. The front door was unlocked. She listened intently. The front door barely made a sound as she entered, and her footpads coming upstairs were so soft that Sarah had a hard time tracking her, until she stepped on the third step from the top, which always squeaked a little. Even then, Susan barely set it off. Susan slipped into her room, nudged the door shut, and then gave her a level smile. 

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Crimbus to you too." Sarah said, her voice a little louder. "Mom got a white noise machine in her stocking, we don't have to be too quiet."

"Thank goodness. Or thank your father?" Susan raised an eyebrow. 

"Dad's idea, yeah." Susan took a seat in Sarah's desk chair, Sarah remaining on her bed. The Christmas Afternoon Nap was a firm tradition in the Brown household. Christmases tended to follow a pattern; no one wrapped gifts until the last minute, so that was most of Christmas Eve, then the morning broke early because Sarah and her father alike were hopped up on childlike glee. Stockings, then presents beneath the tree, then - and only then - breakfast. And by that point, the parents were exhausted and ready for a nap, which was usually a good time for Sarah to catch up with her best friend. "How's your morning been?"

"Fairly good, all things considered." Susan unzipped her jacket as the warmth of the house finally started to seep in. Sarah knew the cold didn't bother her as much as it did some people, but still, it was 18 degrees before you factored in wind chill outside. "The yearly viewing of _Elliot Otter's Jug Band Christmas_ was enjoyable as ever. The Christmas tamales were fluffy and tongue igniting. I am now the proud owner of a much better condenser microphone... and mother was ecstatic about the rebinding."

"I've never seen your mom ecstatic."

"It's not a typical state of being for her. That book was very important to her. Knowing that it's in good repair again and she can actually read it without the pages falling out..." Susan shrugged. "It was just the gift she needed."

"Worth it?" Sarah knew all too well how much work Susan had put into that project - finding a competent bookbinder was tricky. 

"Worth every moment, yes. And speaking of gifts..." She reached back into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. "Merry Christmas." Sarah took the offered box gingerly. With the length of the box, she was fairly sure it was a drawing implement of some kind - and she was not disappointed. A metal-tipped fountain pen... though it wasn't a brand she knew. It was not, in fact, any brand. She examined it closely. 

"Where did you find this? It's beautiful."

"Mr. Raven." Sarah raised an eyebrow. 

"Really?" 

"It's magic. The pen will never run out of ink. That said, if you use more than a half-pint in one day, it will start drawing from your body's blood. So be cautious if you have a large project and the ink starts looking more brown than black." Sarah's eyes widened. She set the pen down, gooseflesh rising on the back of her neck - and Susan snickered. "...Kidding. It's from an artist supply store in Ontario, and it uses cartridges. Lift the velvet, it should come with a few. Just untwist the ties from the other side."

"You _absolute_ -" Sarah let out a puff of air, smiling despite herself. "You had me going."

"Didn't I?" It WAS, to be fair, almost perfectly believable. Sarah sighed, nodding. 

"Well, I don't have a prank to throw in with it, so here. Have a merry one." She reached under the bed and handed Susan a gift bag. Susan took it in both hands. She shook it. 

"No moving parts."

"No." Sarah rolled her eyes. 

"Lots of tissue paper."

"There is, yes." 

"I am going to guess... three novelty tee shirts, at least one involves _The Mandalorian_." 

"You are going to be wrong." Sarah's smile widened as Susan finally opened the bag, dug through the tissue paper - and came up, eyes wide, with a massive, fluffy scarf. 

"What is this?"

"A little extra warmth." Sarah leaned on one arm. "...so it turns out that crocheting is stupidly easy when you get going."

"You made this?" The scarf was quite long, and Susan wrapped it about her neck and face a few times - there was still plenty to dangle down her front. Sarah nodded. 

"Gave my hands something to do while I was watching Grace play Fallout again."

"As opposed to-"

"Oh, no you don't. We're not going there again."

"If you insist." Susan rolled her neck around, all but nuzzling the scarf that was wrapped about her. "This is possibly the coziest thing I own now. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She glanced about. "So... is your mom expecting you home anytime soon?" 

"She is not."

"Want me to pull in some couch cushions? We can sprawl out, watch Kurt Russel being a surprisingly hot Santa Claus...?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How much chocolate did you get in your stocking?" Both girls broke into barely suppressed laughter. 

A good distance away, in the Dunkel household, Elliot and his father were both yelling at the TV as the older man was introduced to the joy and agony that was Smash Brothers. In the kitchen, Ellen munched on a peppermint brownie as her mom slid the tray into the sink. 

"I think... it's time for you to start sharing in my third favorite holiday tradition." Mrs. Dunkel opened a cupboard above her, and pulled out a box of cocoa mix. 

"We did that last Christmas." Ellen grinned. "Not that I'm complaining. Cocoa with gobs of marshmallows is always a plus."

"Not quite that." She reached behind it, to the very back of the cupboard, and pulled out a small bottle. Ellen raised an eyebrow. 

"Peppermint schnapps?" 

"It's very strong. Just an ounce is enough for me - not enough to get all blotto, but enough to warm you up inside."

"I never knew you drank." Ellen's grin widened. "I mean, maybe a beer now and then..."

"I almost never do, but - well, it's Christmas. You can't have a Merry Christmas without a little merriment, in the classical sense." Her eyes twinkled. "Just one mug, though. We don't want to get drunk before Nanase comes over."

"Christmas is family-only day in Nanase's house. What makes you think-" The doorbell rang. Both women glanced towards the door. 

"Well you two ARE family, aren't you? Go on. Go hug your girlfriend. It'll take some time to make the cocoa, anyway."

And some distance away, at the house of the Verres family... all was quiet. Mr. Verres reclined in his favorite chair, Tedd and Grace cuddled up on the couch, as they watched _It's A Wonderful Life_ for the third time. Grace was in fuzzy mode. Tedd was in girly mode. And Mr. Verres was wearing the most ridiculous furry slippers that money could buy, delighted in how comfortable and happy his kids were, and... just... generally happy himself.

There wasn't anything to worry about. All was quiet. Work hadn't called. 

It wasn't often that the tension that ran all the way up his spine wasn't at full strength, but today? Today, that was the case. 

And lastly, atop the Moperville mall building, a young immortal set down his sack, letting out a deep 'whuff' of exertion. "Okay. Okay, so that's... everyone but the Svartbolds. God. I don't know why you didn't do this when you were here, Jerry. This is fun." A beat passed. "Yes I know I got too many houses, I know I should have been done with this last night and not at NOON, it's the thought that counts dammit!" He put his fake beard back on, hefted his sack, and sprang outward, letting out a deep, resonant HO, HO, HO! as he sped off to his last target. Who knew that being a mall Santa would be so rewarding (and give him so much opportunity to help people out)? In one evening, he'd made thirty-nine kids and their families bewildered and super happy, and that? That was freakin' worth it. 

And if the news started picking up stories about 'genuine Santa sightings'... well. That'd just make it better, wouldn't it? Maybe he'd rename himself later.... naah. Zeus was still too cool to let go of. 

And somewhere in the back of his head, an echo of what was once Jerry flinched. You win some, you lose some. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this WOULD have been posted around 1 PM on Dec. 25, but then the Nashville bombing happened, and we lost internet for a few days. :B It is what it is. 
> 
> This story was written in about an hour, total, with no editing or revision aside from italics being put in a few places once I put it on AO3.


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